


Hope will Persist

by Mozart_the_Meerkitten



Series: Hope will (Estel and Maglor stories) [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Estel is a wonderful child, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Maglor is depressed, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:27:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22044043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mozart_the_Meerkitten/pseuds/Mozart_the_Meerkitten
Summary: After not having seen his friend for an unusually long time, 12-year-old Estel goes to check on Maglor and see if he's alright.
Series: Hope will (Estel and Maglor stories) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1583329
Comments: 3
Kudos: 64





	Hope will Persist

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year! Have a feelsy story.
> 
> Please heed the tags- I rated this as G because nothing really upsetting happens and it's told from Estel's perspective, but I don't want to upset anybody with this. I know sometimes just reading about depression/anxiety can make me depressed/anxious, so I don't want anybody to go into this unawares.
> 
> I do have more ideas for stories about these two when Estel's grown up, but I really wanted to write this one next. So here it is, enjoy.

Estel walked through the woods, scuffing his feet in the leaves. Not for the first time he wondered if he was doing the right thing visiting Káno when Elrond had specifically told him not to, but…

_‘It’s been three weeks since he came to visit last,’_ reasoned Estel. _‘And anyway, Elrond doesn’t know_ everything _. There’s nothing wrong with making sure Káno’s okay.’_

The twelve-year-old quickened his pace a little. When he had asked about Káno being gone, Elrond had told him that the other elf was likely fine, and that it was not unusual for him to not come around for weeks at a time.

Estel, however, knew this was a lie and was a little insulted that Elrond thought it would work on him. In the six years Estel had known him, Káno had never been gone for more than a week. So, despite Elrond’s assurances that he should leave Káno alone, Estel was trekking out to his friend’s house to make sure he was alright.

Elrond was probably right, Estel knew. There weren’t many dangers in Imlardis, and Káno was smart enough to avoid them all. But accidents still happened, and Estel wouldn’t have peace until he had seen for himself that Káno hadn’t fallen victim to one.

The boy stopped under a great tree. Before him stood a small garden, and up above, tucked in the tree’s branches was a little house. Swiftly and easily Estel climbed up and stood on the doorstep.  
He knocked just loudly enough to be heard in the little house. Káno startled easily. “Káno, it’s Estel. Can I come in?”

He waited, but only silence greeted him. He frowned. Maybe Káno had gone out hunting?  
_‘Only one way to see for sure.’_

Carefully, Estel scrambled along the branches that stretched beside the house until he came to one of the windows. The pane was dirty, but if Estel squinted, he could just make out the room inside. Things seemed to be in a bit of a disarray, but it was hard to tell. There was no sign of Káno, however, until he pressed his face against the glass and looked at the bed in the corner.  
There he could see a dark bundle wrapped up. Estel frowned. It was the middle of the day, if that was Káno (and there wasn’t anyone else it could be) then why was he sleeping? Had he fallen ill? Estel’s frown deepened; he didn’t think that elves could fall ill, but then again, Elrond had said that Káno was very old, and his mother said that when a person got old they were more likely to get sick. 

Estel went back to the door and knocked again. “Káno, it’s still Estel. Are you ill? Is that why you won’t come to the door?”  
Still no response, but Estel had already made up his mind. “Alright then, I’m coming in, Káno.”

The boy pushed the door open and stepped inside. All at once he was assaulted by the horrible smell of rot and decay. He wrinkled his nose and looked around, blinking. As his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light, he made out a pile of dishes on the table, filled with half-eaten bowls of food and crawling with flies. On the floor he could see clothes and blankets lying around, as well as Káno’s bow, arrows, and harp, all of which were strewn about far from their proper places.  
Estel’s eyes were wide and his mouth hung open as he assessed the state of the house. Never in all the years that he had known Káno had the treehouse been so out of disarray. Káno’s home was always very neat and tidy, and to see it like this…

Carefully, Estel made his way over to the bed. “Káno? Are you awake?”  
The form under the blankets shifted just a little at the sound of his voice, and Estel took that as a yes. “Are you ill, Káno? Or hurt? Can I help? The healers say I’m learning very quickly, and you know I know a lot of herblore, maybe I could-”  
“You can’t help me.”  
Estel froze. The voice that had spoken was rough and harsh, not at all like he was used to.  
He shook his head. “Don’t be silly, Káno, at least let me try. Or maybe I could get Elrond to-”  
“ _No._ ” snapped Káno. “You… can’t help me, Estel. Go home.”

Estel stared. He was so shocked and confused that he hardly realized that he had stood and was walking towards the door till his eyes landed on the pile of dishes on the table.

All at once the boy whipped around and stared at the miserable, huddled form of his friend.  
“Yes I can,” he said, holding his head high. “And I _will_ , Káno.”

***********************************************************

Estel started with the dishes, since they were by far the worst part of the house. He took them outside and scraped out the rotting food. Then he checked the pail of water Káno kept for washing dishes. It was stagnant and had a filmy substance floating in it, so he took it out and dumped it. He hurried a little ways into the wood to Káno’s little well and drew up a fresh bucket and carried it back up the tree, spilling hardly any of it.

He sat on the porch and scrubbed the dishes with soap and water till the wood was clean and the smell had vanished. He cleaned off the table and set them there in neat stacks. 

Then he threw open the windows to let in the light and the breeze, and got to work picking up the clothes and blankets. Most were dirty, so he cleaned those too, and hung them out in the tree’s branches to dry. He swept the floor and cleaned the windows (inside and out, like mama had taught him) and set Káno’s bow and arrows in their corner, and the harp back into its box.

Finally, the house was clean, and Estel gazed at it proudly. The smell was gone, and everything was washed and put in its proper place. He looked out the windows at the lengthening shadows and decided it was time to make supper.  
The boy hurried down to Káno’s little cellar, which was located underground, almost directly below the elf’s treehouse. He was relieved to see that most of the food there was still perfectly useable, and he carried what he needed back to the house.  
As Estel worked, a new, much nicer smell permeated the house- the smell of stew cooking. The boy’s mouth watered at it, but he waited until the vegetables were cooked through and the cured meat had softened a bit. Then he ladled some into two bowls and walked over to Káno’s bed. This whole time the elf had not moved, and now more than ever Estel was convinced that he was not feeling well, and that he hadn’t actually been angry when he told Estel to leave.

“Káno, I’ve made us some stew,” he said, sitting down. “And I’ve cleaned the house for you! Mama always says that people feel better when things aren’t a mess, so I hope that helps you a little.”  
Káno stirred a little but didn’t say anything. Estel waited, but when the elf didn’t move he felt the need to try again.  
“I’ve made stew, Káno. I’m sure it’s not as good as yours, but won’t you try some? I’m sure it’ll help.”  
Káno still didn’t speak, but this time Estel did hear him utter a soft sigh. Just as he was thinking that he’d have to try a different tactic to convince Káno to eat something, the elf started to move. It was slow, and obviously a struggle for him, but Káno managed to drag himself into a sitting position. He kept his head down, and folded his hands in his lap, leaning back against the wall.

Estel grinned at him. He didn’t say anything, but handed Káno one of the bowls of stew. Hesitantly, the elf took it and held it in his hands as if he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Eager to demonstrate, Estel quickly started shoveling the stew into his own mouth.  
When he didn’t feel like he was starving anymore, Estel paused eating his own stew and watched Káno for a minute. The elf ate slowly and carefully, and he seemed to mostly be drinking the broth, but Estel didn’t mind; his friend was eating, and that was all that really mattered. Nobody could get better if they stopped eating, he knew.  
Estel gulped down the last dregs of broth in his bowl and looked back to Káno. The elf had only eaten about half his stew, but that was better than nothing, Estel supposed.

“Are you feeling a little better, Káno?” he asked, cheerfully.  
Káno looked up at him for the first time and Estel felt his heart skip. The elf’s face was pale and gaunt, with deep, dark circles under his eyes. His hair hung down around his face, limp and greasy, adding to his exhausted and unkempt appearance.  
_‘I was right, he is ill! I knew I should have come to visit him sooner.’_  
“I… am,” Káno said, quietly, bowing his head again. “I’m… I’m sorry you’ve seen me like this, Estel.”  
“What do you mean?” asked the boy, frowning.  
Káno swallowed. “Like things were when you came,” he tried, his normally smooth voice strained and rough.  
“Oh, it’s alright,” said Estel. “I’ve been sick before, my room always gets to be a mess then. And when mama gets sick the whole house gets to be a mess if nobody does anything about it.”  
Káno shook his head. “Estel I’m not… elves do not get sick like men do.”  
“But you are sick,” insisted Estel. “I’m sure of it.”  
“I am sick in mind, not in body,” said Káno, wrapping his arms around himself. “I’m not truly ill, I’m just…” he shuddered.  
Estel frowned. “It’s alright, Káno, I’ll take care of you no matter what kind of sickness you have. That’s part of my job, you know, I’ll be a healer someday, as well as a warrior.”  
Káno gave a quiet, muffled sob, and Estel felt a stab of panic.  
“Káno, it’s, it’s okay, I’m sorry,” he climbed up onto the bed beside his friend and gently wrapped his arms around him.  
Káno returned the hug, sobs catching in his throat where he tried in vain to stop them. Tears fell from his eyes onto the boy’s shirt and Estel hugged him tighter.  
“It’s alright, Káno. I’ll look after you,” he promised quietly.

They sat like that until Káno’s sobs quieted, and his breathing evened out. Estel realized that the elf had fallen asleep on him and smiled a little.  
Carefully, he wiggled his way out of Káno’s embrace and laid his friend down gently on the bed, tucking the blankets in around him.  
Estel fetched two more blankets from a cupboard. He folded one up to use as a pillow and covered himself with the other as he curled up next to Káno’s bed.  
_‘I’m glad I left mama a note telling her where I was going,’_ he thought. Then he looked up at Káno’s peaceful sleeping face and smiled.

“Goodnight, Káno,” he whispered. “I’m glad I made you feel a little better.”

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so I just want to address the fact that I don't think Elrond telling Estel not to worry about Maglor was him being inconsiderate or ignorant of Maglor's struggles (Elrond probably knows more about those than anyone in Middle Earth at this point). However, Maglor has been living in Rivendell for anywhere from a few centuries to a few millennia, and elves- being immortal- don't see time in the same way as humans. Elrond is used to not seeing Maglor for months at a time, because he's busy and Maglor is a reclusive fellow. It's only been six years that Maglor has visited more frequently, of course Elrond isn't gonna think it's weird when he hasn't shown up in only three weeks. Estel on the other hand... 
> 
> Raise your hand if you want Estel to come clean your house. *raises hand*


End file.
